


The Short Tale of a Prince and His Captain; otherwise named The Union of Danger and Brilliance

by fandomfan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfan/pseuds/fandomfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prince and a pirate walk into the garden...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Short Tale of a Prince and His Captain; otherwise named The Union of Danger and Brilliance

**Author's Note:**

> Written (though not quite finished in time) for the Porn Battle XV prompts _danger_ and _brilliant_.
> 
> Also inspired by shipimpala's gifset prompt [here on Tumblr](http://shipimpala.tumblr.com/post/75514731509/tell-me-did-you-fall-for-a-shooting-star-one).
> 
> I think I'm incapable of not writing a pirate!AU in pretty much all of my fandoms.

When nefarious seafaring vagabonds cozen their way into royal balls, it is not in Prince Quillan’s nature to be accommodating, with one rather notable exception.  The first time a certain dashing blond nobleman approached Quillan on the terrace with a teasing comment and a mischievous glint in his startlingly blue eyes, it was the coupling of novelty and surprise (both elements sadly lacking in the prince’s hide-bound life) that prompted him to respond with encouragement.  He’d no inkling at the time of what was to follow, but he’d allowed himself to be charmed into pleasant conversation that bordered on the coquettish.  And when his new friend had vanished without leaving a name, Quillan smiled ruefully and thought no more of it.  
  
The man had returned, however.  Again and again, and coquettish conversations on quiet terraces had turned to lustful clinches in hidden gazebos long before Quillan discovered that the mysteriously alluring guest was not, in fact, Lord James of Glencoe, but James Bond, captain of the notorious pirate ship, _The Aughts and Seven._ Quillan will admit, abashedly, that his response to James’ confession was rather more aptly described as ‘brazen harlotry’ than ‘modest decorum'.  
  
The endless line of palace balls has become their courting ritual, and every few months now, James charms his way past the receiving line to see Quillan, who has come to find these moments a relief from his life as biddable Prince of the Realm.  He feels alive when he listens to James’ world-wise tales of battle, when James seeks his counsel, when James—as he has recently begun to do—hints at how well Quillan would do as quartermaster to James’ crew.  And, of course, when he finds himself here, hidden away in a niche in the formal garden, held tight in the fervent embrace of a man his father, the king, regularly refers to as the most dangerous character to ever sail the seas.  
  
James has currently spread his rough hands across Quillan’s shoulder blades beneath his fine cambric shirt and is licking and kissing at his throat assiduously.  Quillan is very quickly forgetting that words like ‘assiduously’ exist, for his body is singing with pleasure so loudly that it drowns out his nimble mind.  He groans _James_  as the clever fiend moves one hand between their bodies and wraps it round Quillan’s eager yard.  
  
“You do that so prettily, my princeling,” James says and begins to stroke.  
  
“And you do _that_  so well, you wicked devil,” Quillan sighs.  
  
“This and more,” James says. “I’ll gladly devil you all you like if you’ll give up more of your sweet little sounds and shivers.”  
  
“Can’t–“ Quillan chokes on the word at a particularly deft twist.  “Can’t devil me. I’m stuck here while you’re– _oh–_ off on adventures.”  
  
James speeds his hand and Quillan urges him on with bucking hips and hands that clamor greedily across those glorious, broad shoulders.  
  
“Come adventure with me, then,” James purrs into his ear.  “Come see the world with me.  Come sail at my side and sleep in my bed, and I’ll give you this devilry every night, and more besides.”  
  
Bold with pleasure, Quillan pants, “What more?”  
  
Where James’ cock presses hard at Quillan’s hip, he feels it jerk in his breeches.  “Oh, my little darling, I’ll give you anything you want.”  He keeps his pace on Quillan’s yard and begins to rock his hips in rhythm.  “I’ll take your firm prick in my mouth or my arse or anywhere else you want it.”  
  
“Yes,” Quillan cries.  
  
“I’ll put my fingers in you so sweetly, you’ll be lost for how good it feels.”  His hips rock faster.  
  
“And?” Quillan gasps eagerly, rutting into James’ hand now like a beast.  
  
“And I’ll take you.  Slow or fast, easy or rough.  However you want it, I’ll put my cock in you.  I’ll fuck you, my lovely Q.  I’ll fuck you until you never want me to stop.”  
  
“Oh, James,” Quillan wails, and he spends hot and long and trembling over James’ hand, clinging to him in desperation.  
  
It takes him a moment to stop shaking and remember to breath, and when he does, he discovers that James is still rubbing himself frantically against Quillan’s thigh.  
  
“Go on, James,” he murmurs, thrilled as ever—even through his exhaustion—that such a great, strong man desires him with such urgency.  “Think of all those things you said.  I want to do those things with you.”  
  
“Q,” James groans, and his voice sounds pained.  “God, I wish you could come away with me.  Have you, always.”  
  
“So do I,” Quillan whispers, earnest as he’s ever been about anything.  The way James makes him feel—wanted in body and mind; useful for more than signing official documents and parading through gilt halls in stiff uniforms; clever and beautiful and of greater worth than all his family’s royal properties combined—nothing makes Q feel as good.  Nothing.   Which… well… if anything were worth leaving this restrictive life behind…  
  
They’re in a barely concealed spot not a hundred yards from the kingdom’s wealthiest aristocracy, and a dangerous, deadly pirate is panting like a bellows against Quillan’s neck and frigging his cock sticky and rough against Quillan’s soiled breeches.  It’s heaven.  And Quillan wants to keep it.  
  
“I’ll do it,” he says softly.  
  
James picks his head up with a start.  There’s only a sliver-thin rim of blue round his black, desirous eyes.  “Truly?” he asks.  
  
“Truly,” Quillan answers.  “When you sail, I sail with you.”  
  
A wash of wonderment breaks over James’ sun-gilt face.  “Q, I never– My God, I–“ and then the wonder on his face twists in that most divine, most profane spasm as he laughs and gasps and spends himself in his fine trousers until Quillan can feel the wet seep through to mingle with his own sticky seed, marking him James’, marking them each other’s.  


End file.
